


==>Run to your Roommate

by Kamuucab



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, It can be interpreted as such either way, Like i guess??, More characters to be added, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Reader-Insert, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Typing Quirks, but like spoken
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-10-11 15:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10467963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamuucab/pseuds/Kamuucab
Summary: You have a nightmare. A stomach churning, heart wrenching, tear spilling nightmare. Waking up might bring you out of it, but the dream haunts you.And suddenly, you remember. If you have a bad dream, your roommate told you to go to them.So you do.(Beta Kids|Alpha Kids| Beta Trolls | Alpha Trolls)





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> Just a book of one shots, trying out the characters personalities and such. 
> 
> Will update at random intervals as I get characters done. If you want someone who is not an Alpha or Beta kid/troll, then request them in the comments.

Your eyes wrench open as you gasp, hands clenching at your blankets. You are curled in a ball, shivering as you hyperventilate. It was a horrible nightmare that you had. Too much at once, all of your phobias attacking you at every corner of the dream.

You were a wreck, holding in sobs as you were wracked with spasms, wiping tears away again and again. Gog, you hated this.

College was already bad with the assignments and everything, and your night terrors had to be added to the mix? Wow, what a functioning human you were.

Your eyes trailed up to your alarm clock, the bright red numbers glaring into your red and tired eyes.

4:13 AM. Early. Too early. You remembered foggily that it was technically Saturday now. You needed to fall back asleep.

Like that was easy. You were paralyzed, stuck to your bed in the fetal position. There was no way you were going back to sleep in a snap.

But you couldn't stay like this. You needed to sleep.

What could you do?

Running through the options, you suddenly remembered something that your roommate had said, after accepting your call for a person to share the rent on your apartment. The flyer had specifically told of your frequent bad dreams, and your roommate had responded in a letter.

Wake me up if you have a nightmare. I'll help you calm down.

Was what they had wrote. You were grateful that they were so understanding. You actually hadn't had a night terror since they had moved in months ago, so you didn't know if the offer still stood. But hopefully it did.

You extended your leg and touched the ground gently with your foot. Slipping out of your blankets and onto the floor, you stood up and walked out of your room, moving to stand outside of your roommate's door.

Hesitation, then a cold shiver ran up your spine. 

You knocked on the door.


	2. John

There wasn't a response, so you knocked again. This time there was a sound, a groan of just waking up. Feet padded to the door, and it opened, revealing your roommate in all of his tan freckled glory.

John Egbert.

Your roommate was an airy guy, all limbs and a bit gangly, with constantly windswept ink black hair and goofy square glasses. He had bucked teeth as well, which you found a little endearing. John was majoring in biology and chemistry, and he had been looking for an apartment when he had seen your ad. A few letters later and an interview, and John was living in your apartment.

He was friendly and good, and a prankster as well. You had fallen for much of his tomfoolery already, though you didn't stay mad. He was honest and nice, lacking in self confidence but loyal.

There he stood, in the doorway, backlit by the moon peeking through the clouds. He was wearing his blue pjamas with the hood, ocean blue eyes bleary with sleep. He rubbed one then, eyebrows rising.

“What are you doing?” He asked sleepily. 

You bit your lip and shuffled your feet, unsure on how to speak suddenly.

“Uh… I had a nightmare.” You squeaked, twisting your fingers so tightly that they hurt. Regret regret regret regret regret-

John’s eyes cleared with understanding.

“Oh.” He said simply, voice cracking. He cleared his throat, then stepped aside.

“Come in then.”

You entered hesitantly.

John's room was messy, tornado/windstorm messy. Some places were well organized and untouched by the mess (like his desk and parts of the floor), while other things were not so lucky (think: everything else). You tiptoed in and John shut the door. Then you both stared at each other for an uncomfortable period of time.

“Um, you can sit.” He said, breaking the staring and motioning to his bed, which had a white blanket with two light blue waves on it. You sat, and it was soft, and you were not prepared for anything like this. 

Like, oh gog, what were you to do? Talk to him? Ask him to hold you? Cry again? Like what? This decision seemed to worsen with each second that passed. You wanted to back out desperately.

John walked over and sat beside you, concern in his now alert eyes. He fiddled with his hands, then sighed, hair flopping into his eyes.

“Do you… Want to talk about it?”

“N-not really.” You replied, face scrunching inward. Could you be any more awkward?

“When I had a bad dream, I'd talk about it to my father, and we'd huddle together against my fears.” John said, his hand entering your vision and taking your attention from your lap to him instead.

“Do you want to do something like that?” He asked, blush dusting his cheeks and ears. It was cute, and though you didn't smile, it did lift your spirits slightly. 

You took his hand, grasping it gently but firmly.

“Sure.”


	3. Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that everyone will be how I headcanon them to be. Stuff like appearance.
> 
> Yeah

There was a response.

“Yeah?” Was grunted faintly from the other side of the door. You pressed against the wood slightly.

“Dave, it's me. I… Had a nightmare.”

Silence, then the shuffle of fabric. You stumbled as the door opened, and drew back to see your roommates typical shades and neutral expression. Did he never take them off? Even while sleeping?

Dave was in a white broken record shirt and dark red boxers, leaning casually against the doorframe like it wasn't an ungogly hour of the morn.

Your roommate Dave Strider, if it wasn't already easy to spot, was a stereotypical “cool dude”. At least, he tried to be. Was successful as well, most of the time. He always wore shades (no matter the place or lighting), always was unreadable, and seemed unapproachable. You had almost denied his application as your roommate, until he had written those words about your night terrors. 

It was written in a rap on a dirty napkin and placed in the pages of the book you had been reading then, but it's the thought that counts, right? He was your roommate now, anyways. Him and his half messy half neat silvery hair, super pale complexion, and unhealthful obsession with shit webcomics and basic douchiness. 

He paid his part of the rent, you couldn't complain.

Said “cool kid” tilted his head to the right.

“Well, You haven't had a nightmare before now. Seems to be caused by some fucking thing. Was it the smuppet that Bro had sneaked in the apartment somehow? Honestly, I wouldn't blame you. Damn creepy puppets gave me the straight up spooks as a child. Good thing you haven't met Lil Cal. That one was alive, I swear.” 

Your nerves were already easing from Dave’s rambling. He could talk, that was for sure. His Texan accent weaved in and out of his voice, more relaxed than in public. It had taken a while, but eventually Dave was comfortable to loosen up in the apartment and in front of you.

You sometimes wondered why he was like that. All emotionless and uptight, though he tried to hide it. Sometimes he mentioned his brother, and you pieced together that he was raised by said family member, and not well either. You had a suspicion that it was way worse than what was let on, but you weren't going to pry. It had taken months to get Dave to not hide things in the closet, to talk to you and even relax for a second. You were sure that he wouldn't even have responded to your knocks at the beginning of your mutual flat renting.

“So, what are you thinking about?” Dave cut through your thoughts.

“I…” You didn't know what to say. Dave seemed to stare at you for a second, taking in your red eyes and slightly wild expression, your disheveled appearance. He then shifted to the side and grabbed your arm. You stiffened up and pulled back, and he huffed.

 

“Are you gonna come in or what? Ain't leaving ya like this. You obviously need some sort of assistance if you're knocking at this hour.” He tugged you inside, and you didn't struggle.

Dave’s room was less of a room and more of a workspace, if you could call it that. Wires covered the floor, all leading to his turntables that he had somehow moved into the room. Apple juice bottles littered the floor, along with an assortment of chip bags and miscellaneous dirt. Clothing articles were at least confined to the chair, and his bed was clean as well. 

He pulled you around the mess and to the bed, cloaked in a bedspread of different shapes in different colours; red hearts, pink diamonds, black spades, grey clubs, and dark red gears.

“Okay, so this is gonna sound fucking dumb and like a pathetic excuse to get into your pants or something…” Dave seemed to smirk in nervousness at the build up to whatever he was going to say.

“... But my cousin Rose told me that physical touch of someone familiar could help with “harrowing mental images” or however she worded it in her thesaurus sourced mastery of language.”

You scoffed lightly.  
“Are you asking for my permission to cuddle?”

“...Yeah. Pretty much. Rose’s always spouting some therapist shit n’ stuff, and I asked for advice for you or whatever a while ago, s’alright if it's too fucking personal for ya.” His accent wavered heavily. 

Dave was really a gentleman under the surface, way deep down and beneath several layers of metal and gears. He was swearing a bit more from being uncomfortable, showing that he cared more than he dared to show normally.

You sat on the bed in response.

“Dave, that's sweet. I'm really not feeling the best right now, so of course it's alright if we cuddle. It's purely empathetic. If you are comfortable with it, I am.”

He sighed.  
“Alright, then get ready for some total slamming cuddling. Move over and get comfy.”

You actually smiled and got under the covers.

“Okay Mr. Strider.”


	4. Rose

She was up, predictably. You hadn't waited for more than a second before she had opened the door, hair impeccable and in a pair of purple shorts and a loose white t-shirt with a cute eyed purple squiddle on it, a self-knitted long scarf wrapped around her neck and one sock on. She had a cup of tea in her hand and a pen in the other.

Your roommate, Rose Lalonde, was a bit of a night owl.

“Why, hello there. Curious to see you here at this hour. Were you roused from your slumber by the rain? It has been heavy for a while now.”

“No, Rose. I had a night terror.” You said plainly. Rose nodded and ushered you into her room, a gentle smile on her face. She shut her door and maneuvered both of you around the articles of knitted clothing and balls of yarn that littered the floor to sit back in her chair, brushing the latest creation off of a chair beside hers for you to sit.

Rose was a calm, mature lady, with fair white skin and a few freckles, impeccable straight wheat blond hair styled in a bob, and bright blue-purple eyes. Her room showed the childish side of her, with the pictures of various eldritch creatures on the walls and the general mess of everything. You were astonished at how awake she seemed.

 

The notebook set on the desk was closed neatly and set aside. Rose passed the cup of tea to you, and you accepted it gratefully, breathing in the scent of fruit. 

The tea was fruity, uncaffeinated. It was both Rose and your’s favourite tea, and it brought a smile to your face as you sipped it.

“So, would you care to possibly open up about your night terror?” Rose asked, twirling the pen she had been using to write her fiction (of the gay wizard fic variety) between her fingers. 

She was minoring in sociology and majoring in psychology, using you as a patient to practice on. You had agreed to it, of course. She was a great listener and psychologist, and had helped you solve more than one problem before.

She had sympathized with you on the night terrors part when she had sent the letter for application, eventually opening up about the dark part in her life where she had (apparently literally) lost the path of light. It was most obviously that time was the reason she didn't sleep much (that, and possibly some sort of perceived lack of affection in her early youth).

Anyways, she had supported you in many ways.

You put the cup down and sighed.

“I don't really want to. It's not anything against you, I'd just rather not dwell on it.”

Rose nodded again and crossed her legs.

“I completely understand. Is there anything else I could aid you with?”

You yawned just then, drawing her attention.

“I'm tired, but I don't want to sleep. I'm afraid that I might have the dream again,” you shivered. 

“Would you like to sleep in my bed?” Rose asked. You were taken aback.

“What?”

“You are tired, and I can see that while you do want to sleep, you do not want to without a comforting presence. I can allow you to use my bed to sleep while I write. Does that seem to agree with you?”

It did sound good. You were calmed by Rose’s presence, and her bed was looking comfy.

“I would like to take your offer.”

Rose clapped her hands together.

“Good! I'll be right here if you need me, just speak if you need anything.” She said.

You smiled and nodded, standing up and heading to her bed, which had a orange blanket with a yellow sun pattern on it and a purple squiddle plush. You got under the covers, tucking the plush i and already your eyes were fluttering shut.

You heard Rose whisper just before sinking into sleep.

“Sweeter dreams than you have had. May they be filled with light.”


	5. Jade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I missed posting on both 4/13 and 4/20 I'm a disappointment I am so sorry.
> 
> So, happy both of those days I guess hA.

You had no idea if she was awake or not. It was always fifty/fifty with your cheerful roommate. She had a condition called “narcolepsy”, in which the brain turned on and off at random intervals. But the odds were probably more like ninety/ten that she was awake. 

Jade Harley, your roommate, always had an uncanny and sometimes creepy way of knowing things.

Before your knuckles touched the door, you heard her voice.

“Come in roommate! The doors unlocked!”

Your frown lifted slightly at her always perky tone. Turning the knob, you slipped inside and closed the door.

Jade’s room was nothing short of colourful and exciting, bordering childish but somehow looking exactly like a college student's dorm.

As in it was a complete mess.

Squiddles (from Squiddles happyfuntime friends, some being tangle buddies) and other stuffed animals were thrown around, with posters of various furry animals on the walls and plants simply everywhere. There were plants on the windowsill and on her desk, under her bed and strewn across the floor in pots of varying sizes.

Jade was sitting on her bed, the sheets sparkly black with green edges and white swirls here and there, cross legged and wearing a white shirt with an atom symbol on it, along with black leggings.

“Hey, come sit beside me! Your dream must have been very scary.” She said.

There it was again; her simple knowledge of things that she couldn't have known. It freaked you out at first, considering that in the application letter she wrote that you were going to accept her despite feeling weirded out by her “forewardness”. Also your refrigerator was, in fact, not running, and you should probably check up on that. 

After repairing the fridge, you did accept her application, and Jade had become your roommate.

The Latina had long, curly/wavy black hair, deep emerald green eyes (a genetic mutation, pretty at that) and large black circular glasses. She had slightly bucked teeth and a constant smile on, radiating happiness wherever she went. 

Her bubbly personality seemed to be genetic, since you had seen and talked to her cousin John a few times, and he was an always happy guy too.

Her grandpa was nice as well, if a little (a whole lot) eccentric.

You complied and sat down on the soft bed, eyes drawn to the phone in her hand.

“I know you don't want to talk about it, even if it was super bad, so I want to show you pictures of my dog, Becquerel! He had always made me feel better!” She said, turning the phone on and going to the photo album.

Several pictures of the large floofy dog later, you were relaxed and tired. Jade smiled, and then promptly fell asleep, laying back on her bedspread with the smile still on. You laid back as well, closing your eyes and entering a peaceful sleep.


	6. Jane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to switch things around a bit, so the Alpha kids will come before the Beta trolls. It's mostly because twelve original pieces about the same thing for each separate character takes a lot of research on how they act, their interests, and how to string that together.
> 
> Yeah :)

You were pretty sure that Jane wasn't up. You felt bad about waking her, but you felt especially bad right now. Her door had a little dry erase board on it, which had the Betty Crocker symbol in the corner. You looked at it uneasily, reading the message on it instead of knocking.

It read,

Here's the way to bake a pretty cake, if the way is hazy!

You gotta do the cooking by the book; you know you can't be lazy!

-Stephanie

You didn't know who Stephanie was, and the quote seemed a bit abstract, but it was about baking and somehow related to your roommate well.

Jane Crocker was a baker, and the heiress to the multi-million dollar corporation of “Betty Crocker”. She didn't actually have to live in an apartment (much less share one with someone), but she wanted to take a course of history and experience “the college kid lifestyle”.

Jane was a sweet and witty Latina, with a short stature and quaint black hair, a plump figure, and ice blue eyes. She had a slight buck-tooth grin and a love for the vintage look. She was a prankster who loved to prank you in small and cute ways that weren't mean spirited and more on the funny side. She certainly was a person you wanted to have like you.

You knocked three times on her door twice, waiting for a response. Jane was a heavy sleeper, and getting her attention when she was asleep wasn't impossible, but it was difficult.

Eventually, she opened the door, looking dead on her feet with her hair sticking out in every direction. She was wearing a light blue shirt and white and red polka dot shorts. Her signature red glasses were off of her face, causing her to squint.

“Oh gosh, roommate?” She said sleepily.

“Whatever could be the matter for you to approach my door at this hour?”

“I'm really sorry to bother your sleep Jane, it's just that I've had a nightmare and I don't want to be alone.”

Her face softened at your words.

“Oh dearie, no no no don't apologize! Come here!” She reached out and pulled you into a warm hug. You relaxed your muscles and unclenched your jaw. She still smelled faintly of sugar and vanilla, reminiscent of the latest batch of chocolate chip cookies she had made that evening.

Soon she led you inside of her room, sitting you on the bed and turning on a lamp.

Jane’s room was a neat and tidy room, where everything was in its place. She had a few things from her friends on the walls, and a large red chest in the corner, but otherwise the room seemed quite bare. You had been slowly trying to get her “proper heiress” habits to become lax, for her to loosen up a little, and it seemed to be working.

Things were a bit messier now. She had a few notebooks lying about on her desk, next to a small pile of her silly mustaches.

Her bedspread was light blue with a weird wavy green pattern on it.

You had a blanket tossed around your shoulders, and you turned to Jane, who had flopped onto the bed beside you. Music was drifting from her computer's speakers, slow piano chords pushing against your ears.

“I'm glad you came to me, Even though it is very late!” Jane smiled tiredly.

“Let's see if some music will calm us down. You can tell me about your dream if you want to, or we can just listen to the music. No pressure anywhere!” 

“Alright, thank you, Janey.” You replied.

“No problem at all dear, hoo hoo hoo!”


	7. Dirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of feel like I didn't quite capture Dirk's personality here... He isn't a completely stone-faced ironic jerk, but he isn't exactly an open book. He reminds me of Dave mixed with a bit of Rose. 
> 
> Anyways, here is one of my more difficult to write characters. Enjoy!

You could hear him tinkering away at something as you stood at the door to his room. Music blared from his earphones, and you knew that knocking wouldn't have alerted him to anything, tuned out as he was. Knocking on his door was more of a reflex of being respectful of people's personal space and privacy.

He had said you could come into his room at any time, though if you saw anything it was on you (ironically stated or not, you never snooped or walked in without alerting him).

Dirk Strider was a city boy straight from Texas, the predecessor to a man called Dave, who had produced some extremely shitty and ironically terrible movies called “the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff series”. Word was that another movie was in the works and that the sextuplet was going to be even more ironic and worse than its six counterparts.

Enough about his guardian.

Dirk Strider was a man of irony, with impossibly styled blond hair and sharp features. He was alabaster pale, but he also had many freckles, coating his arms and face heavily. A pair of sharp triangle anime shades his eyes from the world, and therefore most expression (except what he wanted to show) could be seen. Cool and as ironic as an iron (metaphors weren't your strong suit), he was certainly a looker, one who could land any catch he wanted.

The thing was that he was a bit of an introvert, no matter what he said or did. 

He worked on his projects all day, sewing puppets (creepy, creepy puppets that he hid in random places that never failed to scare the saccharine Jesus out of you) or building robots or perfecting his sweet ass rhymes. He was going to college for a degree in mechanics and engineering so he could step out of Dave’s shadow and wanted a cheap place to stay until he finished and could move on to better things.

He had noted your bit about nightmares and had offered his (terrifying) cute childhood puppet lil Cal to, as he said, “protect you from subliminal messaging beamed in from satellites”.

You had politely refused, and so he offered for you to simply go to his room if you had any nightmares.

“I don't sleep a lot. Got things to do, so my doors open for ya.” He had said, hands in his pockets.

So with a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

Dirk’s room portrayed the mind of a multitasking genius. AKA it was messy. Scraps of fabric and fluff lay on the floor, pieces of metal lay in a corner, puppets were scattered everywhere (and lil Cal was sitting on a shelf staring at you, creepy). The bed was neat-ish, the bedspread orange with light pink hearts (one side full, the other hollow). Dirk was at his desk, a toolbox opened and his most recent project scattered in front of him. His computer was pushed to the side, headphones still quietly shouting music from them.

Dirk noticed your presence (somehow), and slipped his headphones off, swiveling to face you.

“Hey.” He said, a black tank top and maroon boxers composing his clothing.

“Uh…” You glanced at Cal and back to Dirk.

“Bad dream?” Dirk tilted his head to the side, unsmiling but seeming to scrutinize you from behind his shades.

“Nightmare.” You corrected him, nodding.

“Huh.” Suddenly, he was gone in a flash of a shadow. You felt a weight on your shoulder and turned your head to see Cal now hanging on you, his head turned to face you.

“Y'all come over here, we've got some shit feelings to sort out.” You did a half rotation to see that Dirk was now on his bed, head in one hand and hip in the other, one leg half bent in a “seductive” pose. He was still deadpan serious, voice lilting with emotion slightly, but otherwise monotone.

It made you laugh actually. He was being silly. You did join him on the bed though, giving him Cal and talking through your nightmare until you were tired, sinking into a slumber and yes, falling asleep on Dirks bed.

Your dreams were filled with lil Cal, but they were only quasi-terrifying ones. All was good.


	8. Roxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of my saltiness from how Roxy is in fanon leaked into this, and I am totally not sorry.

“Mmm, who is it!” Roxy yelled from the other side of the door. You could hear snorting and laughter from your roommate, and you had one thought.

Oh Roxy.

“It's me, your roommate.” You said.

“I, uh, had a nightmare.”

“Ooooh, yeah yeah. Come in!” She yelled back, her footsteps padding to the door.

It opened to reveal Roxy Lalonde, your atypical “ditzy” girl.

She was pretty, don't get confused. Her hair was a fine blonde, short and curled at the edges, her bangs really just a giant misbehaving curl that wouldn't do anything else either than what it was currently doing. White skin (balancing on sort of a tan), small nose, plump cheeks and eyes that were somehow pink. She had a defined figure, curvy and muscular (from practice with her gun and kickboxing), and a killer smile. “A femme fatale” as some would say. “A gal with a knife hidden in her lipstick case to be unsheathed with a goofy smile” you would say.

Roxy's mother was an elusive individual responsible for some risqué and borderline wizard-cult books, which were captivating and charming and quite the read. They were a bit heavy for your taste though.

Roxy was a woman perceived by many to be very one dimensional. A pretty face, and that was it. Maybe a casual drunk, who tagged along with her friends and flirted with every male in the vicinity, regardless of their orientation.

In reality, it was far from that first off perception.

Roxy had once been an alcoholic, long in the past. It had been told to you by her when you had found her crying over a bottle of wine she was pouring down the sink. She used to get flat out drunk a lot, as it filled a void she had with her all of her life.

Roxy was also smart. Hella smart. She was a whiz at computers and could hack any database even after ten shots (which she had laugh sobbed to you about). As a kid, she had experimented in biology, had a firm grasp on physics, and was currently maintaining a 3.95 GPA on her majors, which were engineering and metaphysics.

Thirdly, Roxy was a lesbian, though she was aesthetically attracted to men. “Compulsive heterosexuality” she had called it.

“Though I'm tooootally more comfortable flirting with girls.”

Said woman was currently standing in the doorway with her cat in her arms, wearing a light pink nightgown and dark blue leggings, along with her signature purple scarf.

“Heyyy, come in now!” She pulled you into her room, which was twinkling with fairy lights.

Roxy's room was quite the sight. It was a cross between “sweet sixteen palooza” and “laboratory”. Weird window looking things were stuck on the walls, wizard plushes were all over the floor, and clothing of three main colors; white, pink, and black were thrown everywhere except the closet, where a cat bed lay. Her bed was in the corner, the bedspread a soft pink with small navy blue swirls and golden sparkles on it.

Roxy's computer desk was cluttered with papers and books, there was barely enough space for her computer. A little green box was on the desk as well, which was a stress ball. Roxy used it when stressed, though she mostly just liked to hold it in her hands rather than squeeze it.

She went over to her bed and threw the clothes on it off, sitting down and beckoning you over. 

As you sat, she dumped her cat into your arms.

It was a small thing, a black kitten. It seemed to not mind switching people as it tangled up in your arms and rubbed its head against your hand, purring.

Why was it so friendly? Why was it so cute? Why was it so calming???

“Sooo, tell me about your dream!” Roxy said, pulling her legs up onto the bedspread.

“It was… Scary.” You replied, scratching the cat under its chin.

“What else? Was it intense? Intriguing? Filled with murder and mystery?” She leaned in closer.

“I kind of don't want to talk about it, actually.”

Roxy leaned back onto the bed.

“Oh, yeah, alright.” Everything was quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the cats purring and your breathing.

“Um, what were you doing before I came in?” You said.

“Oh, just programming. Messing with codes and such, hacking files. Nothing new.” Roxy then sat straight up, her eyes sparkling.

“Omg you should totally let me do your nails.”

“Um okay.”

Well, looks like you then had an impromptu sleepover with Roxy. Not a lot of sleeping was done, though you did have fun doing simple things with her. They helped you to forget your nightmare, and soon it was lost in a world of glitter and glam and laughter.


	9. Jake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last kid, then it's onto the Beta Trolls! Jake is my second favorite out of the Alpha Kids (Roxy's #1), so this is a bit longer than the previous ones (I also wrote this one before the other Alphas LOL) So enjoy!

You tapped lightly on his door, looking at the little stickers and things he had stuck on it to personalize it.

Pictures of his friends, stickers of different exotic animals, things like that. It was cute that he decorated. He had asked you before doing so, which you had appreciated. 

The door was opened quickly, Jake looking sort of awake but also half asleep, wearing a green shirt and really short night shorts, his raven black hair tousled crazily, dropping into his eyes. He raised his glasses to his face (which he must have picked up from his nightstand) and squinted.

“Oh golly, hello roommate. What kind of shenanigans has brought you to my humble abode? Is another ruffian spider terrorizing you, dear chap?” He chuckled, British accent absolutely dashing- you mean captivating- you mean okay.

“No!” You frowned at his teasing, not in the mood for it.

You crossed your arms, biting your lip.

“I had a nightmare.”

The tired but happy smile on his face dropped to a concerned expression. 

“Goodness, how extremely rude of me! Here I am, giving you a hard time, and you're in a crisis! Humming jimminey!” He opened the door wider and beckoned you inside.

“Come in! And please forgive my infernal nannering, I truly am sorry.” 

You stepped across the threshold of the door and into his room.

Posters completely obscured the walls, covering the basic beige until only parts could peel through. Most were movie posters, many with blue women on them. A few drawings were on the walls too, along with the one you had given to Jake when you had found it in the piles of paper in your own room.

The floor was relatively clean, and plants were stashed around the room, growing crazily. The bedspread was gray and green with different animals on it, with a weird wing pattern in white appearing here and there.

Jake English was a British Latino, one who had been raised on an island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean (or was it Atlantic?). He had fluffy black hair and piercing emerald green eyes, a slim but muscular build (from hiking and exploring around the island), and a weird way of speaking. It was quite old English, using words not even in the dictionary anymore. (He also had the unfortunate ability to make innuendos and not comprehend it, along with being as dense as packed sand).

But he was charming, and polite, and paid his bills and made a great friend. You had been expecting to be less than acquaintances with Jake, but he had been pretty adamant about being friends and bam, here you were.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, but Jake flopped back into the bed, rolling over and patting the mattress.

“Come, join me! I'm mighty tired, tuckered out! You look like you're about to keel right over too.” He said. You hesitated. Jake was, as stated before, quite dense. You were tired, but wasn't this invasive?

“Difficult are we? It's alright, I don't bite.” He smiled, all teeth, and you blushed.

“Oh English, you dapper gentleman, your charms are wooing me.” You pretended to swoon, and you leaned close enough for him to grab your arm. You gave a small yell as he pulled you into the bed, throwing the blankets over you.

“Jake!” You exclaimed, trying and failing to get out of the blankets. They seemed to ensnare you, their weight bearing down. It was warm under the covers, and Jake put his arm over your body.

“Googly moogly, roommate, you're quite the talker. Shush now, it's all okay. I'll fight the monsters off and I won't let them touch you.”

“Flirt.” You said, yawning after saying that.

“I am not flirting! I am trying my darndest to comfort you.”

“Yeah sure.” You replied sleepily. You gave up struggling and allowed yourself to go back to sleep, Jakes presence being one of serenity and hope.


	10. Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Karkat before Aradia, so instead of the Zodiac order, Karkat's first and then it'll progress normally.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

You were hesitant to actually knock on the door. Sure, you were respectful of privacy, but that wasn't really the reason why you were having second thoughts.

It was mostly because your roommate was an angry troll.

Now you didn’t mean that in a rude, insulting sense, you meant it literally. 

Karkat Vantas was literally an angry troll.

Trolls were more formally called Alternians, from the planet Alternia. Yes, they were aliens, and not conventional ones at that.

Pale grey skin. Black hair. Candy corn horns of varying sizes and shapes. And last but not least, a weird hierarchy based around their blood colour, with different symbols for each bloodline of troll.

IThe Hemospectrum was ranked based on the blood colours, and the colder colour the blood, the higher up you were. Burgundy blood was the lowest, and Fuschia blood was the highest. Teal blood was in the middle, and mutant blood was candy red.

You didn't know all of the politics and absolute facts of their complicated way of life, but you did know that when they had come to your planet, the Hemospectrum was already a little skewed and looser than it had once been. And since humans were vastly different from trolls (diurnal, slower, weaker, plus technical “mutants”), the Hemospectrum was broken down quickly.

Of course, with anything that people think about, there were still some trolls who still believed in the Hemospectrum; either treating humans like mid-bloods, or as the lowest of low.

Anyways, your roommate was a troll. He was part of an interspecies co-operation thing. Basically, he was given to you because no one else wanted him and took other trolls in instead.

You felt a bit of pity for Karkat (you would feel bad if no one had wanted to room with you), but the first words out of his mouth were fifty percent cusses and fifty percent bristles aimed at you, so the first impression didn't go well for either party.

“HELLO HAIRLESS MONKEY. I CAN ALREADY SEE THE OBSESSIVELY IDIOTIC PITY THAT YOU HUMANS UNIVERSALLY GIVE MY PEOPLE IN YOUR WEIRDLY COLOURED EYES, SO I'M GOING TO MAKE THIS SHORT ENOUGH FOR YOUR RUSTED AND BROKEN THINKPAN TO ACTUALLY FUCKING PROCESS. I DON’T WANT TO BE YOUR MOIRAIL, AND I CERTAINLY DIDN’T WANT TO BE SHARING PROTEIN WITH A MONKEY. I’M TIRED AS ALL HELL, AND I AM NOW GOING TO MY RESPITEBLOCK AND NOT COMING OUT. DO NOT KNOCK ON MY DOOR UNLESS THE CONDESCE HERSELF HAS RISEN FROM THE GRAVE AND IS DANCING A JIG TO THE WARBLING SHIT SOUNDS THAT YOU CALL “MUSIC”.” With that brilliant introduction, your roommate had promptly gone to his room and slammed the door, leaving you standing there with the tin of cookies you had baked in hand.

Yes, you had cried afterwards. Having a complete stranger yell at you was not a great experience. You had left him alone after that, feeling sorry for both yourself and him. 

The sheet of information that you had been given told you that Karkat was a mutant blood, with the same coloured blood as humans. It had pretty much marked him for death in his society, so he had to wear a lot of skin covering clothing and develop a prickly personality so no troll could get close and find out his blood colour. 

Pity was also apparently associated with something they called a “Moirail” and a “Matesprite”. Their cultures romance was separated into four boxes, called “Quadrants”. It was all very confusing and difficult to understand, and you didn't want to even begin trying to understand it.

But quadrant classes were made compulsory, and you quickly learned that a troll without quadrants or basic interactions of romance would die when things called ‘Imperial Drones’ came knocking. Karkat had been cornered on both sides from his own people.

Though you left him alone, it didn't stop you from thinking of him. He must have been so lonely, so sad.

He wasn't a total douchebag actually. You had found a piece of paper slid under your door written from him a few days later, in chicken scratch and all caps. Did he yell even in writing?

ROOMMATE,

THOUGH I MIGHT HAVE THROWN YOU OFF AT THE BEGINNING, MY POSITION STANDS SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT AS OF LATE. I STILL DO NOT WANT TO ENGAGE IN ANY QUADRANT WITH YOU (AS I MAY HAVE COME ONTO YOU WITH INTERPRETED BLACK FEELINGS), BUT THE CONCEPT OF “HUMAN ACQUAINTANCES” SEEMS TO BE PREFERABLE.

ALONG WITH THAT, I DID TAKE NOTE THAT YOU MIGHT GET HORRORTERRORS IN YOUR DREAMS, WHICH MIGHT REQUIRE SHOOSH PAPPING TO ERADICATE. SUCH BORDERLINE PALE FEELINGS MAKE ME WANT TO “UPCHUCK” AS YOU HUMANS PUT IT, BUT IN THE EVENT THAT YOU DO GET HORRORTERRORS, MY RESPITEBLOCK WILL BE OPEN. POSSIBLY.

-KARKAT

So there you were, in front of the door to his room (respiteblock), shivering but too nervous to open the door.

A minute passed, and you heard Karkat.

“UGH, SERIOUSLY?” 

The door opened then, startling you into jumping backwards.

“I COULD HEAR YOUR RAPID BREATHING BEHIND THE COVER TO MY RESPITEBLOCK. WHAT DO YOU NEED THAT CAN GET YOU AWAY QUICKLY.” Karkat stood in a black shirt with the cancer symbol in grey, and grey pants. His hair was its usual mess, nubby horns peeking out, and his sharp teeth bared in annoyance.

“I-I had a bad dream.” You said quietly, regretting your decision to even get out of bed. Karkat was making you feel bad already.

His eyes widened, yellow sclera showing and eye bags appearing lighter.

“OH.” Was all Karkat said, staring at the space just above you.

“I'm sorry for interrupting whatever you were doing. I'll go back to my room, good night.” You turned to leave. Sleep was overrated, right?

“NO WAIT.” Karkat grabbed your arm. “YOU HAD REQUESTED THAT I SHOOSH-PAP YOU IN CASE OF HORRORTERRORS.” 

“Yeah but you don’t seem to want to.”

Karkat sighed angrily.

You were then pulled into a hug, the stiff troll patting your cheek, making shooshing sounds and whispering nice things into your ear. For a constantly yelling troll, you didn't know that he could be so gentle.

He smelled faintly of cherries, a sweet and tangy smell.

Whatever he was doing, ‘shoosh papping’, it worked. You were calm and half asleep in no time, dream forgotten. Karkat ceased his papping and let you go, his voice returning to its normal volume. 

“ALRIGHT HUMAN, I HAVE DONE THE NECESSARY FUNCTIONS LIKE A ROBOTIC IDIOT. YOU MUST BE FEELING BETTER NOW.” His face was faintly red, and he shuffled from foot to foot in the doorway of his room.

“I am feeling better, thanks Karkat.” You said, walking back to your room. “Good night.”

“GOOD DAY HUMAN.”


	11. Aradia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love my gorl Aradia and hope I did her character justice,,, She deserves more screen time.

You knocked on the door, hearing the muffled sounds of a movie on the other side. There was shuffling, then footsteps.

The door opened to reveal your flatmate, decked out in a rust red t-shirt and black leggings, her black hair hanging over her left shoulder and a white fedora sitting atop her head, her curly ram horns peeking from the sides.

“G00d day friend! Fancy seeing y0u at this h0ur.” She said.

Aradia Megido was your roommate. She was a troll, a burgundy blood. Though the information on interspecies co-operation sheet said that she was “eccentric”, it wasn't as bad as you had thought.

She was an archeology buff with a psychic bloodline, able to hear the voices of the dead. She had confided the latter to you eventually, and you were alright with it. She had never pushed anything onto you or acted out, so you talked to her about it and everything was good.

Aradia had gorgeous long curly black hair and a cute chubby face with a light smattering of freckles. She had cartilage piercings in her ears and a habit of over-enunciating her O’s. 

“Yeah. I had a nightmare. Horrorterrors.” You said, correcting yourself to her terms.

Immediately her expression turned serious.

“0h g00dness, they t0ld me s0mething wasn't right. C0me in.” She stepped aside and let you into her room.

It was a tidy space with posters of Indiana Jones and other adventurers on the walls. Her recuprecoon had more pictures on it. Her laptop (or husktop as she had said before) was on her desk, “Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull” playing on it. She tapped a few keys and paused the movie, closing it and setting the device aside.

She pulled out a few pillows from her closet and set them on the ground, sitting on one and patting the other. You sat down.

“I had a feeling that y0u w0uld be t0rmented by h0rr0rterr0rs. My ancest0r t0ld me s0. I c0uldnt d0 much ab0ut it until y0u w0ke up and sought me, I am s0rry.” She laid a hand on your leg.

“Let us talk ab0ut it. I am sure that we can scare them away t0gether.”

Aradia smelled of old books and spices, which was familiar and comforting.

You brushed your hair out of your face.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all....
> 
> Y'ALL 
> 
> HIVESWAP IS HERE!!!!!
> 
> That's kind of the reason I'm posting this really close to the last chapter; take it as a reawakening gift ^^
> 
> Anyway, I'm HELLA EXCITED that Hiveswap finally got released!!! I'm super ready for a reawakening of the fandom, for all of the new fandom bbys not knowing what they're stumbling into. Godspeed to all of you!
> 
> Anyway, this leads me to a question for you all... Should I add the Hiveswap kids to this story? When we get more character personality stuff, of course. But should I? Please comment and tell me what you think! (Ps: This is also me telling you that requests for characters other than the main trolls/kids are open!) Thank you!


	12. Tavros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever, hasn't it?
> 
> Sorry I've dropped off of the map. The new school year's been kicking my ass (Plus those Real Depression Hours).
> 
> I'll try to pick up again!

Your roommate was a total sweetie, he could definitely help you out.

Tavros Nitram was an actual cinnamon roll. He was a troll, with light freckles and almost permanent brown/bronze blush, the second lowest blood color on the Hemospectrum. He had large bull horns coming out from either side of his head, and his head was shaved on the sides, leaving only the top with longish black hair. He was short but boft (buff and soft), and had an obsession with Peter Pan, of whom he called “pupa pan”.

Tavros had lost the function of his legs and had been in a wheelchair until eventually, he got them amputated and replaced with a pair of metal legs from one of his friends, a skilled robotics troll.

You were willing to take him in, and everything had gone smoothly. He had been very shy and nervous at first, but soon you two had become good friends. 

He had been sympathetic about your chronic nightmares (his horns got in the way a lot and made his sleep very disruptive) and was alright with you seeking his company if you needed it.

And you did now.

You knocked twice in quick succession, shivering from the cold. Your apartment was always a bit drafty.

The door opened and Tavros stood there. Without hesitation you stepped forward and hugged him, clutching his clothing tightly as you cried.

“wOAH,,!” He exclaimed.

You had caught Tavros by surprise, causing him to stumble backward. His arms wrapped around you, finding balance again.

“uH,, yOU HAD A bAD,, uM, dREAM DIDNT YOU.” He said.

You nodded into his chest. Tavros sighed and stood there, allowing you to gain comfort from his presence.

At one point he began rubbing small circles on your back, humming an unfamiliar song to you.

He smelled faintly of a summer breeze and dew.

Eventually, your breathing grew quieter and softer, your grip loosening on his clothes. Tavros lead you back to your room, where you crawled into your bed.

“Thanks Tav.” You mumbled.

“nO, uH, pROBLEM.” He said, walking out of your room and shutting the door.


	13. Sollux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yIKES I haven't updated this in foreeeeeeeever! Sorry for keeping y'all waiting, I'm still alive! I'll post another chapter tomorrow as an apology.

The clicking of keys were almost as fast as your heartbeat as you stood there. You wanted to rush inside and cry on him, but he was a jerk and would probably shove you off of him.

You knocked instead.

“Sollux?”

“No.” Was the curt reply from the troll behind the door.

“Sollux-”

“Whatever iit ii2, no. Go away, ii’m bu2y.” The clicks didn't stop. You stood there for another minute, trying to calm your half sobs and stop crying.

Sollux Captor was a troll, third highest on the Hemospectrum. He had golden blood, bi-coloured eyes (blue and red), a real knack for computers, and a total douche personality. He was antisocial and rude, shutting himself away for hours. The information sheet you had gotten during the assigning of roommates per the interspecies co-operation told you to at least try to get him out of his room to breathe because it just made his mood worse, but your interactions with him were horrible at best.

“Sollux I had a nightmare!” You yelled, voice hoarse and cracking at the end. The clicks stopped and a string of curses emitted from the lisping troll. A click of the lock later and he was there in the doorway, wearing a black t-shirt with the Gemeni sign on it and grey sweatpants, glaring at you through his glasses (which were also bi-coloured).

“Well, you look horriible.” He said flatly.

“Being scared witless and awoken in the middle of the night does that to a person.” You said blandly.

The two of you had a staring contest until Sollux clicked his tongue angrily and moved forward, stretching his arms out and wrapping them around you. He was tall, taller than you and thin as well, so it was like getting hugged by a sharp lamppost, but you accepted his comfort and hugged him back.

He rested his chin on the top of your head gently, rocking from side to side almost imperceptibly. It was soothing, and it wasn't hard to become drowsy. He smelled of honey and mint.

Eventually, Sollux got tired of comforting you.

“Alriight, thii2 ii2 the end of the 2hoo2hiing.” He let go of you, only to grab you again as you swayed, mostly asleep.

“Jegu2!”

He argued with himself for a moment before sighing. He swept one arm at your knees, scooping you up.

“You're fuckiing heavy, what the fuck do you eat? Rock2?” He steadied himself and took small steps to your bedroom.

Plunking you on your bed, Sollux took one second to watch you sleepily struggle with the blankets.

“Oh for the-” He flung the blankets over your body.

“Human2 and thiier weiird fuckiing 2hiit, wiith thiier non-2opor bed2 and diInural 2leepiing pattern2…” He continued to grumble as he left your room.

You were fully asleep, peacefully resting.


	14. Nepeta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She absolutely deserved so much better than what the comic gave her.

Your roommate spent less than a second responding to your knocking. She opened the door swiftly, smiling that little devilish cat smile, wearing a pair of olive green boxers and a dark blue t-shirt, her tail twitching behind her. She was sans hat, her hair curling this way and that around her horns.

Nepeta Lejion was a peculiar troll. In retrospect though, all trolls were peculiar. She was a troll with olive blood, the fourth highest blood colour on the now demolished Hemospectrum. She had short black hair that was wild on the top and stuck to the sides of her face, cat-ear shaped horns jutting out from the top of her head. She was cat-like, pouncing on you at random times, eating fish a lot, and even wearing a blue robotic cat tail that responded to her neural wavelengths, so it behaved like a regular tail. She was nice though, and friendly, and she had seemed to take a shine on you after you had taken her in.

Her Moirail, a blueblooded troll (and a scary one at that) was a semi-permanent fixture in your shared apartment. Nepeta did most everything with him. He was intimidating, but after grilling you thoroughly and after a tussle with Nepeta, he seemed to be okay with her “associating” with you. She had squealed at that, and meowed happily for the rest of the day, staring at you and her Moirail with almost literal hearts in her eyes.

Nepeta was a hardcore irl shipper. Instead of shipping fictional people on shows, she liked to document her friends interactions with each other and different people, writing them down on her giant chalkboard (which she called her “shipping wall”). She apparently shipped you with a few people, including some of her friends you hadn't met yet (premonitions?), and she apparently even shipped you with her Moirail, telling you that him deeming you “acceptable” was grounds for a relationship with said troll. You had laughed at that.

Anyways, back to the present.

“:33< *Nepeta squints at her roommate, toying with a piece of string. What is it? She purrs*” Nepeta said, wrinkling her nose at you.

“Uh, the roommate dips their head in respect at the great huntress. ‘I have had a bad dream Nepeta.’ They say.” You played along with her roleplay once in a while. It didn't happen all that much, so doing it wasn't a hassle.

“:33< Oh! Why didn't mew just say so?” Nepeta dropped her roleplaying and went straight to business.

“:33< Horrorterrors are not to be crossed with! Ignore the rolepurrlay.” She took your hand firmly.

“:33< Come in! We can talk about ships and meow’r bad dreams! I'm sure I brewed a pot of tea only a minute ago.” She tilted her head and smiled wide, her tail curling up into a cane posture. You laughed at it and nodded.

“Sure.” You replied. She mewed happily and pulled you inside of her respiteblock.

The inside of her room had cat pictures all over the walls, with her clothing thrown around and a large blanket pile in the center of the floor, her olive recuprecoon covered in scratches and chalk. It was against the wall that was painted specifically with chalk erasable paint, where Nepeta’s list of pairings were carefully scrawled out.

It was a messy respiteblock, though to be honest who's wasn't messy?

Nepeta flopped into the blankets, beckoning you over. You sat down and burrowed carefully into the pile, trying to be aware of the troll.

Nepeta smelled of catnip and earl grey tea, a strange combination.

“:33< Purrhaps mew would want to not talk about meow’r Horrorterrors, but instead about any flush crushes mew have?” Nepeta suggested, pretending to look less interested than you knew she was.

You smiled ruefully.

“Okay, but as long as you promise not to make fun of me.”

Nepeta pouted and mewed indignantly.

“:33< I would nefur! A flush crush is not something to joke about! Or any quadrant feelings fur that matter.”

“Okay okay.” You said, placating her. You told her of your quadrants, discussing specific moments of when the feelings occurred until you fell asleep, softly snoring next to Nepeta.


	15. Kanaya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love her.
> 
> Thank you all for 1000+ hits and 80+ kudos!

You knew that you were waking up your roommate from her slumber, but you hoped that she could forgive your interruption of her beauty sleep for this emergency.

She opened the door relatively quickly, and she looked alert enough. Some sopor slime was on her face and in her hair. She was wearing a Jade green shirt with the Virgo sign embroidered in the right corner, and wine red pyjama shorts, along with long purple socks knitted for her by Rose. Her clothing looked wet as well.

“Roommate? What A Peculiar Time For You To Be At My Door. Is Something Of The Matter?” She asked, her speech and pronunciation impeccable.

“Yeah, uh…” Your voice was raspy, and you coughed, clearing the sleep from your throat before speaking.

“I had a nightmare. A bad one.”

Kanaya’s eyes widened and her lips parted, razor-sharp eye teeth peeking out from her mouth for a second before her lips pursed.

“Oh Dear, You Poor Thing.” She said, eyebrows drawing together.

“It Is Never Easy To Deal With Such A Thing As Horrorterrors. Please Come In.” She pulled you into her room and shit the door, grabbing a towel to dry herself the best she could.

Kanaya Maryam was a prim and sassy troll with Jade blood, the fifth highest blood color on the Hemospectrum (which was now dismantled). She had short wavy hair that was carefully styled to frame her face in such a way to create a halo effect, accentuating her cheekbones and angular chin. She had differently shaped horns, one softly curving outwards and the other mostly the same, only with a small part near the tip jutting out at a sharp angle downwards. Her lips were full, her eyebrows perfectly curved; she had a slim figure but was modestly curvy, and she was beautiful. 

Kanaya was a fashion designer, making her own clothing and making some for her friends when they wanted something. She was studying fashion and human trends at college so she could keep up and get her own designs into the market. It was quite a vicious industry she was going into, but Kanaya was vicious herself. You had seen it when a troll called Eridan had tried her patience. He was rude, and she had left with a huge chunk of his ego. It was fascinating and terrifying in equal parts to watch. She was built for confrontation, whether it was to defuse a situation or to coax the flames.

Her room was an organized mess. Swathes of fabric, some folded, some not, were scattered around and on her desk. Papers with designs and patterns on them were piled beside her sewing machine.

A thread rack hung just above it on the wall, where rolls of thread in every shade hung. Also on the walls were a few posters of recent and popular fashion lines, along with a cork board covered with photos of her and her friends.

Kanaya’s recuprecoon had splashes of sopor slime on it, from her scramble to climb out. She wiped it down with the towel and dunked it into the laundry basket.

Reaching into her closet, she pulled out a thick foam mattress and a few blankets and pillows.

She set it up quickly and sat you down, opting to sit on the floor beside you.

“As A Grub, I Too Suffered From Horrorterrors. Some Of My Friends Thought That They Were Caused By My Unusual Sleep Pattern. Of Course, That Was Not The Reason. Though They Stopped After A While And I Never Figured Out Why I Had Them In The First Place, I Know They Can Be Terrible.” She tilted her head and looked into your eyes, placing a hand on your leg. 

She was close enough for you to smell the fragrances wafting off of her. She smelled of fabric softener and some sort of freshness, like flowers.

“I Can Guess That You Wish To Not Speak Of The Events That Took Place In Your Dream, Am I Correct?”

You nodded.

“Then Please, Allow Me To Comfort You.” She asked.

“My Lusus Had Done So When I Had Horrorterrors.”

“Okay.” You said. She took your hands and rubbed circles into the tops, a purring arising from her chest. She worked up your arms to your shoulders, a haunting song drifting from her. She pulled you to her, hugging you and petting your hair. Slowly you grew drowsy. She laid you down on the mattress and tucked you in, running her fingers in your hair until you fell asleep, her motherly concern and caregiving you peaceful dreams.


	16. Terezi

“H3H3H3H3, I C4N SM3LL YOU OUT TH3R3 ROOM4T3.” Terezi said, opening the door while you were mid-knock.

“BLU3’S 4 GOOD COLOR ON YOU.” She gave you a toothy grin, referencing the blue pyjamas gifted to you by the troll. They were teal like her blood colour, and she liked to comment on them a lot. Her advances didn't seem to flow in any way within the quadrants, so you let them slide with polite thank you’s.

“Terezi, can I come in?”

“WHY? DID YOU FIN4LLY G3T LONL3Y IN TH4T W3IRD B3D OF YOURS?” She snickered, and you frowned.

“No Terezi, I had a nightmare.”

“4 NIGHTM4R3?” She sniffed the air and a look of realization came over her face.

“OOOH, HORRORT3RRORS, HOW D3SPIC4BL3. I C4N SM3LL TH3IR SICKLY BL4CK LICORIC3 SC3NT 4LL OV3R YOU.” Terezi opened the door more, revealing her greenish shirt and red and teal shorts.

“COM3 ON IN.” She beckoned. You followed her into her respiteblock.

Terezi Pyrope was (if you were going off of those old D&D templates) a chaotic neutral. She was a teal blood, smack in the middle of the Hemospectrum. She balanced on the edge of lowblood and highblood, which used to give her special privileges before it was demolished. Her sign was the Libra sign, and she was tall and chubby. She had black hair styled in a bob that swung out at the ends, and a pair of sharp looking horns on top of her head.

She had a pair of red glasses and was technically blind, though she could still see using her ‘sniffoscope’ and ‘lickoscope’, which basically meant that she sniffed and licked things to see their colours and their shape.

She wasn't fashionable (if the pair of red crocs that she wore on a daily basis didn't tell you that already), wearing mostly teal and red, because she loved red, and teal was her blood colour.

Terezi was majoring in law and going to law school. Since legislacerators (apparently the Alternian brand of cops and judges and everything else associated with the law) weren't a thing on Earth anymore, she was going for the next best thing. She was good at it too.

Her respiteblock was certainly an interesting one to look at. It had stuffies she called a variety of interesting names (pertaining to the fascinating shades of colour they were), fabricated (or real?) large colourful scales mounted on the wall, and simply colour everywhere. A few stuffies were hanging by nooses from the ceiling, and you shuddered. Terezi’s particular brand of roleplay wasn't your cup of tea.

Her teal recuprecoon was over to the right hand corner near the door, though she ignored it for the pile of stuffed dragons on the opposite side. Terezi pulled you along, and you succumbed to the plush snouts and comfort of the stuffies.

It wasn't that comfortable, but there were blankets underneath the pile so that lessened how uncomfortable you were.

“SO, HOW C4N I, T3R3PY, B3 OF US3 TO COMFORT YOU?”

You laughed at the mangling of her name (a mispronunciation you had made when she had first introduced herself) and shrugged.

“I don't know. I feel sleepy, but I'm too scared that if I fall back asleep, I'll have the nightmares again.”

“HMMM, YOU DONT W4NT TO T4LK 4BOUT TH3M, 4ND YOU 4R3 4FR4ID OF F4LLING 4SL33P…” She scooted closer to you, enough that you could feel the weird warmth/cold emanating from her. She smelled a little like rain.

“HOW’S 4BOUT I SP34K UNTIL YOU F4LL 4SL33P? YOU C4N B3 LULL3D BY MY B34UTIFUL VOIC3, H3H3H3H3.”

You sunk lower into the pile, putting Professor Pucefoot under your head as a pillow.

“I think that might work.” You said.

“4LRIGHT TH3N! ILL B3GIN… NOW.”


End file.
